Falman & Chopper and the Chimera's Paw
by Arcbound
Summary: Stuck living together in a Central apartment, Falman and Barry attempt to pass the time.


'Ah, things are boring today.'

Falman sat with his head against the back of a secondhand sofa with a cushion missing. His arms hung over the back of the sofa, with nothing else to do. The ceiling fan was broken, along with the window, and blazing summer heat swept through the grungy apartment without resistance. The stifling heat and humidity made insects and street sounds from the window the only noise.

'Though, considering the past few days, maybe that's an improvement?'

"Old man! Let's play another round of chess- I figured out how to beat your ancient, geezer's brain!"

'No,' Falman thought, 'it was definitely an improvement.' He let his head fall dramatically to the side, to look at a clock on the wall with minimal effort. "It isn't even noon. I haven't eaten anything today. I'm pretty sure this will end up being seen in retrospect as the beginning of a drought. Yet, you want to play chess, Barry?"

"No; I want to go out and slice someone up," Barry said without restraint. "But you people are keeping me locked up here, so this is the next best thing! Hurry, before my plan fails by delay!"

'Why did I have to draw the short straw?' Falman wondered. 'Havoc should have, instead- he'll need practice dealing with children, with how he is.' He sighed, "What is your plan, anyway?"

"Playing you when you haven't eaten anything today, and while it's still broiling in here."

'I don't think I could even win rock-paper-scissors in these conditions,' Falman thought. 'At least it's not a bad plan.'

Without moving, he saw the dog-door flap open, and Black Hayate walked in carrying a knobby stick in his mouth. He dropped it in front of Barry and looked up, expectantly.

'Good boy; you entertain him awhile. I'll just take a nap... Or would, but for this heat.'

Barry picked up the stick, and Black Hayate watched to see where he would throw it. Instead, he inspected it. "Hey, old man! Getta' loada' this stick...'a."

Barry tossed it to him, and Falman rotated his arm like a baseball pitcher to grab it before it hit his face. Black Hayate ran to the couch and jumped on his lap, trying to bite the stick, jumping up several times after Falman held it above his head. He looked at the stick, and grimaced. "Roadkill?" It was a grotesque claw and arm, burnt black, with only a few hairs remaining. He tossed it back to Barry, and Black Hayate followed. The dog jumped onto his skull-and-helmet head, and Barry threw the limb blindly. Black Hayate got off him and chased the claw, jumping through the broken second story window to follow its arc through the air.

Falman and Barry stayed still from shock before they simultaneously rushed to the window. Black Hayate stood facing them in the courtyard below, claw in mouth, tail wagging. The two stared at him, and he at them, before Black Hayate went to go around the building and come back up. Falman shakily walked back to the couch, and resumed his repose.

"I wish he had brought me lunch instead," Barry lamented.

"Not that you can eat," Falman said.

Someone knocked on the door in the Mustang Unit rhythm, and Falman went and opened it. Breda stood the hallway, and held up a bag from a diner down the street. "The colonel figured you were starving, after Havoc couldn't deliver your groceries last night."

"And why was that, Porky?" Barry asked. "Why couldn't the cigarette guy deliver my food?"

"My food, you mean," Falman noted.

"Someone followed him a few blocks, so he didn't risk it. He'll try again tonight- this should hold you until then, though." He handed Falman the bag. "I'd bring the groceries with it, but my lunch break isn't long enough."

"What about me?" Barry asked.

"What about you?"

"Don't I get anything, Porky?"

"No you don't, Chopper."

"Why not?"

Breda stared at him, trying and failing to understand his thought process.

"Forget it Breda," Falman said. "For some reason he likes the name 'Chopper'. Even if he didn't, none of us are about to beat him in a name-calling contest."

"Who's calling names?" Barry asked as Breda left. "It isn't my fault there are so many of you suits I can't remember more than one or two. How can I call names I don't remember?"

"Those aren't the names I'm talking about," Falman said. Falman closed the door as Black Hayate pattered in, after the dog scared Breda in the hallway. Falman sat on the couch and opened the bag. Inside was a wrapped-up burger and fries, and a few cheap napkins. "No supper until Havoc gets here, I guess." Falman pulled out the burger and bit into it.

He chewed a moment, then pulled out a paper napkin and spit the chunk of burger into it. 'The diner that shut down last year after cutting too many costs... It's reopened, isn't it?'

"What's wrong?" Barry asked.

"It tastes like they forgot which cuts of beef to ground, and which to feed to the dogs." Falman whistled for Black Hayate, and put the burger sans-a-bite onto the floor. Black Hayate dropped the limb and ate his lunch.

'At least their fries were good,' Falman thought. He reached in and grabbed one. It was white. He rolled it between his fingers, and the thick coating of salt crumbled off in chunks. Falman put the fry back into the bag and rolled the top of it closed. 'Salt must be cheaper than potatoes this year.' He looked over to Barry, inspecting the claw again, and for the first time felt jealousy at the idea of not needing to eat.

"Hey, old man," Barry tossed the claw at him again, "I recognize this thing! It's from a chimera I saw at the fifth lab. Not to mention, one of the claws on this paw is curled down!"

"So?"

"That's all. It probably got bent when it hit the ground."

'Then why bring it up?' Falman wondered, and tried again to sleep, and failed again. Barry mumbled something, holding up the burnt limb. Unable to nap, Falman daydreamed of retiring in a quarter century. 'Ah, maybe this is why he keeps calling me an old man?'

"AH!"

Falman shot upright, and reached for his gun. However, he saw it was only Barry staring at the paw still, and leaned back with a scowl. "Don't raise false alarms, Sixty-six. It's dangerous."

"Old man, don't you see?" Barry held up the animal arm, "I wished for lunch, and it brought it to us! It grants wishes!"

"I doubt that."

"I don't!" Barry rubbed the arm, conflating it with a lamp. "I wish for a beautiful, hot woman... To chop up."

"Good luck with that. We took your butcher knives, remember?"

"Don't think I would forget -or forgive- that crime of yours!"

Another Unit-rhythm knock at the door. Falman and Barry looked to it with surprise. Through the door they heard a comment on the heat wave.

"Is that her?" Barry asked.

"Be quiet." Falman went to the door, thinking 'Don't tell me...' He opened it just a sliver, and looked through the crack. "Now is a bad time, Lieutenant."

"Is something the matter, Warrant Officer?" Hawkeye asked. "I just came to give you Black Hayate's-"

"I hear her voice!" Barry shouted. Falman spun around, and saw him pull a butcher knife out of the folds of his ragged armor-coverings. "Get out of the way, old man! Don't come between a butcher and his meat!"

Falman jumped to the side as Barry charged, and Hawkeye unaware of the situation, opened the door further to see what was happening. Barry reached for her arm, to pull her in so he could butcher her more easily; his grip slipped immediately. Hawkeye shot him four times in the head before kicking the knife from his hand. Falman stepped on the knife as it spun across the floor and picked it up.

Knocked to the floor, Barry tried to swing his blade, but found it wasn't there, and froze.

"Falman, I'm leaving Black Hayate's leash here in case he gets out of hand- or if prisoner Sixty-six does." Hawkeye took the knife and glared at Barry as she closed the door behind herself.

Falman watched Barry as the animated pile of metal and mask brought itself to its feet, walked to a corner of the room, and huddled there, facing the wall. Falman leaned back and relaxed several minutes before his curiosity grew too overwhelming, and he sat up again. "What's the matter, Barry?"

"It granted my wish again," Barry said. "But, that stupid chimera's paw messed it up, again; she was hot, she was too hot, she was sweating- it would have rusted my knife!"

"That's called karma, for hiding a knife from us in the first place." Falman put Barry out of his mind, and finally succeeded in getting some sleep. Laid across the couch, eyes closed, Falman slept two minutes before he opened them and jumped up. "That thing really grants wishes, doesn't it?"

"Don't, old man! It doesn't grant wishes, it corrupts them!"

'But I have a wish where the particulars don't matter!' Falman thought, and dived for the paw. A second claw was curled down, leaving only the third straight. 'Just one wish left?'

"You don't know what it'll do!" Barry begged, trying to pull it out of his hands just as Black Hayate had done earlier.

Falman held the burnt limb above his head again and rubbed the paw, "I wish I weren't trapped in this apartment with Barry the Chopper!" He declared, then looked to Barry and added, "No offense."

Barry buried his 'face' in his hands. "Don't you have a sense of self preservation?" he asked. "Don't you realize we're liable to get hit with a meteor or something, now that you've wished that?"

Another Unit-rhythm knock sounded from the door. They looked in morbid curiosity, before Falman said "There's no way for that wish to be corrupted enough for me to regret it. I don't care about the details, and that's all it plays with!" There was a second knock, more hurried, and he answered the door to see Fuery.

"I have a message from Colonel Mustang, and the car's waiting outside," the young soldier said.

Falman smiled.

"After Lieutenant Hawkeye's gunshots a few minutes ago, the military police are on their way. You have to get out of here before they arrive."

Falman's face straightened.

"The Colonel wants you to let the heat die down, and hide with Barry at another apartment in the city. I've actually been there once, it's pretty cramped... But that's not important- let's go!"

Falman frowned.

* * *

"I told you not to do it!" Barry exclaimed, seated in the back of the careening vehicle with Black Hayate. "Didn't I tell him not to do it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fuery said back, hunched over as he tried to drive at a legal speed and without swerving at the sight of every officer or soldier.

"Everyone keeps saying you're pretty smart-"

"No, people don't often exposit my character traits to you," Falman said.

"... But you're really an idiot, huh, old man?" Barry crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat. "Though, I guess those wishes were at least entertaining. I wouldn't mind a few more..." He watched out the window, before he turned to the other side and saw Black Hayate seated sideways, watching him. "Hey, old man or glasses kid, it doesn't matter which. Did that woman teach this dog any tricks?"

"Tricks?" Falman thought about it, "Nothing but utilitarian orders, I suppose. Why?"

"What about, 'shake'?"

Black Hayate barked.


End file.
